transgressings | inbox for duplicity;

[ He is warm, warmer than her somehow; she had not realized exactly how much until he'd settled his coat around her and the shivers she's fighting to repress suddenly cease, and she closes her eyes until her breathing evens, until the chill that feels as if it has settled into her very bones begins to thaw. ]

Yes, I noticed you do not bear the mark, though I do not know what it means that mine remains this color without any sign of change. [ Gray, firmly, neither dark nor light; she cannot feel it when she brings her hand to her skin but she can somehow sense it there, so indelible it's as if it had always been a part of her body — and she suddenly despises it, hates that she will be made to kneel for it, to scrape and submit. ]

They have. What is required of us, what we are meant to succumb to for this... experiment. [ The realm of science is a mostly foreign one; she had relied on the knowledge of people like the good Doctor Frankenstein to educate her where her own was lacking. She opens her eyes to find his face before her, so collected in contrast to the turmoil of her own feelings. ] I never imagined intimacy being viewed in such a clinical manner.

It means you haven't conformed to what they expect of you. It will turn darker purple or black if you fall in line, pink or white if you lean the other direction. At least, that's what we've been able to uncover.

[He was working to get his own submissive's mark onto the darker scale, but he doesn't tell Vanessa this, yet. There's only so much she can probably tolerate hearing right now.]

You should take care to hide it if you do go out. They've begun to take those who resist their system and place them in their facilities for 'reprogramming'. [And he would hate to see her carted off for that. Dorian would, at least, fight to prevent that if he could.]

And I know; it's rather jarring from the mindset of most societies. But they are serious in their research and their monitoring of us, especially. I will help you adjust to it in any way that I can. And, of course, bring Mr. Chandler up to date with the same information.

I see. [ It doesn't make her any more inclined towards compliance, but she understands that she can't afford to draw any unwanted attention to herself, especially not now when her position here is so new, so tenuous. There are so many more questions filtering through her awareness, each of them trying to nudge their way to the forefront to make themselves known, but she utters none of them and falls silent instead, for a moment.

He has more advantages than she does, though it would appear that everyone has been affected by this new demand of obeisance, of those marked submissive stepping into their designated roles without resisting — and the dominants as well, to an extent. ] I suppose such an offer comes layered with its own separate meaning, considering the circumstances.

[ Because she cannot help but be aware that an overture such as the one he's making will be tinged with another connotation, now that she has something as technical and habitual as a quota to meet. Assisting her in this acclimation could be interpreted in any variety of ways, and her expression briefly reflects that, a subtle twisting of her mouth and a momentary lightness in her gaze. ]

[He cannot deny that it was part of his intention in offering his help, to also offer a managing of her quota along with it. But it does come with the caveat of him being aware of their history together, and of her own feelings on the matter. Dorian would never fool himself into thinking he's a good man, by any means. Not for long, at least.

But he wouldn't move unless she allowed it, first. He could give her that much consideration, knowing that the stakes here would likely push her into that direction, anyway.

For his own credit, Dorian manages to keep his expression soft and sympathetic as he reaches out to place his hands lightly on her shoulders. Nothing more than that, just to ground her some.]

Only if you would want it. I do value your trust and your friendship more, Vanessa.

[Even if he had sort of abandoned it, before. But perhaps fate was allowing him a second chance to correct things and realign his focus.]

[ Even as the words leave her lips she feels exhausted by them, this sense of expectation bearing down on her body, to her very bones. It makes her skin itch and heat in equal measure and the scent of him emanating from the fabric of his coat all at once suffuses her senses, bringing her back to a memory when they'd come together intensely. She recalls it as starkly as if it had happened just the other day rather than such a long time ago, now, and her fingers clutch a tighter grip against one of the lapels.

His hands are warm too, through the heavier cloth, designed to keep out the cold but cradle in the rest, and she brings her gaze to his expression, her own hopefully not betraying her utter tiredness. ]

And I yours. [ A pause, and she cannot remember the last time she had reason to use his name like this, soft and familiar: ] Dorian.

[ She musters a smile, because they are friends, aren't they? After all is said and done? Even if the other possibilities are more dangerous territory for her to attempt to navigate, she can rest safely in the knowledge that the rest holds true. ] Would you stay a bit longer? I would prefer not to be alone, for a while.

[The fact that she's asking him to stay--the fact that she uses his first name--makes Dorian believe that maybe they can recover some of their lost kinship. The first genuine smile curves his lips, and he bends his head forward to place a kiss against her forehead, along her hairline.]

Of course. My time is yours for however long you might want of it.

[He does mean that, too. When you have all the time in the world, sparing some of it for her is no great task.]

I regret that I can't take you shopping for some proper clothing. My funds are frozen, at the moment. But I'll leave the coat with you for now and find some other way to dress you.

[ She realizes she may be more vulnerable in this moment than most others, attempting to process everything she's been told while inhibited by her own designation. If it were up to her, she'd refuse to stay here, to make a point of procuring herself some more appropriate apparel and to move without care — but the station she finds herself in limits her in more ways than she could have anticipated, the normal comforts she enjoyed without restriction now all but denied to her.

The contact of his lips against her skin is tender, and fond, and she closes her eyes instinctually, releasing an exhale she had not even been aware she was holding in. ]

Thank you. [ It bears more meaning for her now than she could ever hope to express fully, and she finally shifts to sit down now that she's assured of his remaining here with her — though the only place for her to sit comfortably is at the edge of one of the beds. ] I should consider the possibility of endearing myself to someone who could be in a position to assist. Or propose some sort of trade, though I'm afraid my skills may be limited in certain areas.

Edited 2019-01-22 18:29 (UTC)

[Dorian follows, sitting down on the edge near to her but allowing for some space between them. He knows she's simply thinking aloud about her situation and the options available to her, but the immortal tries to subdue a little pang of jealousy over the thought of her seeking out others to collect her necessities from. Rationally, it makes perfect sense but it still causes a bitter taste to arise in his throat.

That's tempered as quick as it can be, reminding himself that everyone must sacrifice some things in order to survive here. He's well aware of that.]

I don't doubt your abilities of discretion but some of the people here are exceptionally dangerous. Do be careful.

There are also very kind people here, though, who would give you what you need without any expectations of repayment. I can point you in a few of their directions if you'd like, assuming their funds are still in good standing.

[ None of this feels comfortable save his presence, the one unflickering constant in a sea of upheaval; she's calmed, for the time being, but there's no telling how long that will last and she doesn't anticipate he'll be able to stay for longer than he can reasonably afford to. In fact, there's little she does envision of the future given her own limited knowledge, to say nothing of what her last memories prior to her arrival had been. That is a secret she cannot share, not yet.

So she does muse out loud somewhat, half-aware of the distance in her tone and doing her best to return to the present place and time, her smile sincere if brief. ]

You've been so kind, throughout all of this. I only regret I have so little to offer in exchange.

[ Her hand shifts to settle over one of his, fingers curving around for a fraction of an instant before beginning to withdraw. ]

In a place like this, so obsessed with deceit, I was concerned that finding those inherently selfless people would be an impossibility. I'm grateful to hear that good has found a way to persist.

[When he feels her hand settle over his, Dorian's gaze flicks down to the soft connection and raises his thumb to brush lightly over the outside of her palm, before she can pull it away again. He wishes he could do more for her in many ways, but also doesn't want to overstep her boundaries when she's just reaccepted him. And he's more keenly aware that this is only their first reunion.

So he is, of course, on his very best behavior for her. Her compliment does earn another smile and a small shake of his head, though whether it's at the sentiment or the regret is unclear.]

They've brought in all types. I'm sure you'll meet many of them soon enough if the history of this place is anything to go by. They'll put all of us through an orientation of sorts again, soon.

[ Whether it's the trials she's recently been subjected to or the sheer amount of information she's been given, Vanessa feels unable to perceive in a manner that would normally come to her without effort; it may take her some time to regain the control she's lost, and in the meanwhile she might have to rely on others more readily than she would otherwise, current company included.

If he's presently wrestling with anything in terms of how best to proceed, she's too distracted by her own considerations to notice — but the touch of his hand garners another smile and a small nod of her head. ]

Yes, I'd heard, this... mandatory gathering. Another place to offer only a few answers while conjuring many more questions, I'm assuming.

Oh, they'll provide many answers and instructions but they won't be the sort any of us really want.

[He can't help but joke about it some and hopefully it will help to lighten her mood, even if they're both aware of what those answers and instructions will focus on. And how that might affect her, personally.]

You might even find some of it amusing. I know I did.

Oh, very helpful.

[ She does smile at that, and not involuntarily; the shift of his mouth into the knowing smirk she's come to be familiar with prompting that response, and she glances down at her own hands, realizing she's been threading her fingers together. Slowly, she draws them apart. ]

You've complied, haven't you. [ The question leaves her softly, the end tilted so lowly and decisively that it may not even be perceived as inquiring on his end, as if she knows the answer without even needing to ask to begin with. ] With what they've asked of us.

[As soon as her touch leaves him, he misses it. But her smile is also something he's gone without for too long, and it serves to soothe some of the chill left behind in the wake of her hand.

Then, that soft but knowing accusation. Dorian doesn't balk in his response to it--there's little sense in hiding something that's so obvious considering his very nature. But he does let out a slow breath before his own mouth straightens some.]

With parts of it, yes. Meeting the quota has been no task at all.

[But he's sure there are other areas that she's inquiring towards and after a short pause he comes out with it.]

And I have a contract.

[ It doesn't come as a surprise to her when he responds in the affirmative; he has always left her with the impression of a certain level of adaptability where most things are concerned, able to not only survive but thrive to an extent. There's no disappointment in her tone, or even judgment — were their positions reversed and she the one who had been living here for the past few months, she would have found her own means of enduring even if the thought of compliance makes her inwardly sneer.

The quota is one matter; these contracts are quite another entirely. ]

Do you? [ Again, not incredulous. In fact, she almost sounds closer to fascinated, or intrigued, about learning the particulars. ] With who?

[If he were still capable of blushing, the tone of her voice might actually bring a rise of color to his cheeks. But as it is, all he can do is avert his gaze downward and smile in a somewhat self-conscious sort of way.]

You wouldn't know him as he's before our time. [And he's careful to say 'our' rather than 'my' because while he knows that Vanessa suspects much of him, he's never truly revealed his entire story to her.]

But his name is Horatio. He was a lieutenant in the navy before coming here and is very... unassuming.

[Which might come as a shock that he would take in someone like that, but his whims are ever so changing and fluctuating.]

I'll have to introduce the two of you, at some point.

Edited 2019-01-24 18:01 (UTC)

[ The concept of the contract does leave her experiencing more curiosity than she might readily confess to, but she doesn't anticipate any condemnation from him on that front either. He has been more open in the expression of his desires than most in their society, unconcerned about censure when it comes to seeking his pleasures where he can. In some ways, she admires him for what he's embraced here. In other ways, she envies that freedom. ]

A seafarer. [ She might not be able to resist a light teasing, especially when he glances away from her for that brief moment. She has known his preferences to be unique, more accepting than most; it's one of the reasons she has always found him so intriguing. ]

I think I'd rather like to meet the man who Dorian Gray has deemed worthy enough to forge one of these agreements with.

[He knew that Vanessa was already aware of his tastes--after all, people talked and gossiped all the time, especially in their society. Dorian didn't care. He proudly flaunted his difference in their faces just to provoke a reaction and laughed while doing it. So he doesn't feel the need to tiptoe around the subject at all, and wouldn't, regardless.

His self-consciousness comes more from the contract itself, and the idea of practically owning another human being. Because freedom is an important aspect of his life and has been for quite some time. He knows she's aware of that, too.]

And you shall. [Raising his gaze again, his smile turns more gentle as he reaches out to touch her hand again, simply resting it over hers for another touch.]

Once you've been settled, and have some proper clothes again I'll arrange for you to meet him. I would say it could be today but... [He cocks one eyebrow at her and briefly bites his lower lip.] ...I fear he might be quite scandalized by your current state of dress.

Edited 2019-01-25 01:09 (UTC)

[ She's no stranger to gossip herself, least of all at home; they've both acquired the ability to ignore it, whether by necessity or sheer disregard for the opinions of others. She knows she is regarded as a woman of mysterious habits, strange quirks, and she has grown accustomed to being viewed that way given what she knows of the world beyond their own, a world that few would be capable of truly understanding.

Out of all those in the room that evening, perhaps the two of them had always been meant to revolve into one another's orbit, if only for a short time.

The contract is one aspect among many that she will have to consider, even if her first instinct is to bristle at the concept. It's likely he senses that, himself. ]

Well, we should do our part and not try to unnecessarily shock and appall if we can avoid it. [ Her eyes narrow, almost playfully; she won't be able to reside more comfortably here until she can wear something other than that gown hanging in the wardrobe. ] He sounds quite respectable.

He is. We're opposites in many ways, to be completely honest.

[And typically he wouldn't give a second's thought to shocking or appalling anyone. Horatio was also more normal than either of them despite having his quirks and some eccentricities; Dorian couldn't pinpoint exactly what had drawn them together if he tried. But perhaps that was what was unusual about it.

Well, she'd be able to observe and judge for herself once they'd met. Dorian would be interested in hearing her opinion, as well.]

But I suppose that adds some balance to the relationship. I try not to interject into his life too much when I can help it, so he retains as much independence as is possible given the demands placed upon us.

Well, there can be fun in that, can't there?

[ It's remarkable, how much conversing with him has eased her already; his company doesn't completely rid her of the weight of her burdens, as much as she's assumed over the years, but it temporarily mitigates. Some of that tension in her has left without her even knowing it, replaced by an altogether different sensation.

She glances down to their hands, his still lightly clasped over top of her own, and turns her wrist to link them more decisively. ]

Once again, you've clearly thought of everything. [ Her tone doesn't carry any spite; more than anything, she's pleased to see him flourishing against the restrictions of their situation. Even if he does hold more of an advantage, he's still been forced to comply in some manner. Beyond the people in this room, everything she's read so far on her device leaves the impression of a group that's simply trying to make the best of it. ]

[He laughs lightly at her first question, knowing it's more rhetorical than anything. She knows him well enough to have already figured that out for herself.

And when her hand turns in his, his gaze studies her face a bit more intently before he gives a gentle squeeze of his fingers back. There's an energy there that he's always been aware of--a kind of deep and subtle electric current that flows between them, ever since he'd first taken her hand at Mr. Ferdinand Lyle's evening social. He was glad to find that it had not lessened, but he wondered if she felt it, too.]

One day, you'll have to stop accusing me of having qualities I don't possess. First usefulness and now prudence. [It's clearly a joke, but his tone carries an undeniable undercurrent of affection.]

I'm only making the most of the situation, that's all.

[ She's always felt it there, that current — subtly in his words, more intensely as a result of any physical contact between them, no matter how small. She doesn't know what it means that the same is true here, even now, with time and trial having removed them so often from one another's presence only for this place to have catapulted him back into her life again, at the moment when she least expected it.

She is equal parts grateful and filled with trepidation, and the latter ultimately wins out as she draws in a sharp breath, gently pulls her hand free. ]

Qualities you don't like to believe you're in possession of. [ But she knows better. ]

That's really all any of us can try and do here, now, isn't it?

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